Caspian stood in the center of the Crown Prince's private study, holding the unopened note as if it were a live explosive.
Aeron was seated behind his massive mahogany desk. He had discarded his formal coat and cravat, his white shirt open at the collar. He looked relaxed, powerful, and deeply expectant. He was waiting for her answer. He was waiting to find out if she would wear the blue silk stockings.
"Well?" Aeron asked, his voice a low, vibrating hum of anticipation. "What did she say?"
Caspian swallowed audibly. He took a step forward and gently placed the folded, perfectly sealed cream parchment onto the polished wood of the desk.
Aeron looked at the note. He looked at the unbroken wax seal.
The relaxed, predatory heat in his eyes vanished, replaced by an instant, terrifying stillness.
"Why is the seal unbroken, Caspian?" Aeron asked softly.
"She... she did not read it, My Lord," Caspian whispered, his hands trembling at his sides. "She asked me to return it to you."
